


The Fall of a Paragon

by MagusLibera



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-18 02:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21670153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagusLibera/pseuds/MagusLibera
Summary: In the Crisis, Oliver Queen lost his life in order to save the Multiverse. Now remembered as a paragon, his wife attempts to come to terms with becoming a widow, raising her daughter alone and spending the rest of her life looking for a sign of what happened to her husband. She has some help along the way.
Relationships: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Comments: 32
Kudos: 132





	The Fall of a Paragon

**Author's Note:**

> So... four days until Crisis, an episode of Arrow last night (no spoilers! I haven't had a chance to watch yet) and I must now apologise for the angst in this, and promise that it gets better.

The car is parked behind a close group of trees, hidden from view by the leafy evergreens. Felicity sits with silent tears crawling down her face as she watches people who never appreciated Oliver, people who never truly knew the man that she loves as they give his eulogy and make speeches about a life that they knew none of the important details of. About a man that they constantly put down.

John, of course, has taken point on the ceremony. When Felicity told him that she could not bring herself to do it, that she could not stand in front of a sea of hypocrites and talk to an empty grave about her husband with only a few true friends close by to support her, he stepped up. She watches as, kind heart that he is, he throws a handful of dirt onto his friend’s grave, honouring the tradition of her religion, her daughter’s religion.

It is not until the final black coat has faded from view that John returns to her, his own face streaked with tears. “They’re gone.” Is all that he says. She nods her head, leaning over to pick up Mia, who has been uncharacteristically quiet, gnawing on a teething toy next to her. John holds the door open for them, helping her get out safely, precious cargo wrapped up tight.

Walking to the tombstone takes an eternity. Mia fusses gently in her arms, sensing that something is wrong, but not knowing what it is. Her little face presses against Felicity’s neck, snuggling in with a whimper as her hand grips at the fabric of her mother’s top, seeking comfort. When the two of them are finally stood in before the tombstone, that is when Felicity finally collapses. She has been holding it together so well, but the name OLIVER QUEEN written over a lifespan of just thirty-four years is an unbearable sight.

On her knees on the frozen winter ground, Mia still safely secured in her arms, she sobs. By the time that she is able to collect herself enough to speak, her legs have gone numb in the cold, “Look, Sweetheart,” she addresses her daughter, turning her to face the stone, “That’s your daddy.” Mia squeals in delight, looking around for him before turning back, confused. “You see there? It says husband and father. That’s for me, you and your big brother. It says that he was a hero, that the Green Arrow was a hero and nothing has ever been more true than that, except for how much he loved the three of us. How much he was loved by us, and Aunty Thea and Uncle John.

“The people who were here a moment ago, almost none of them truly knew him. Only a few gave him the respect that he deserved. They often talk about respect, but they judge him and turn on him for some of the choices that he has had to make.” Mia blinks up at her, like she is acknowledging the words, “What they don’t understand is that he doesn’t have superpowers, fighting bad guys was never so easy for him because he actually has to _fight_ and sometimes people get more hurt in a fight than intended. Sometimes you have to hurt people more than you want to so that they can’t hurt you any more.

“There was no body, of course. If there were a body then I would be able to stop looking. John said that, after he died, some cosmic being was able to use his body to stop the Anti-Monitor. He said that it was only Oliver who could do this and that his sacrifice was inevitable if Crisis was to be stopped. The thing is though, Mia, after Crisis was stopped and Spectre left his body, it just vanished. Everybody thinks that he disintegrated. Nothing to bury. Just another empty grave like your grandfather’s. So he’s not really here, you see, but this is all that we have. I think that I finally understand what those five years must have been like for Grandma Moira and Aunty Thea.

“In any case, Mia-Bear, we won’t be coming back here. It was a big enough risk to do it once, but I had to show you this place at least once. In another life, it would have been your home, the Queen Mansion. He isn’t here anyway, there are only a few places where he still is now and none of them are a plot of frozen dirt with a rock planted over nothing. He lives on in you, in your brother. In your Aunty Thea, and in Uncle John’s and my hearts. So say goodbye, baby girl, we have to say goodbye to Daddy now.” Mia waves her little hand, demonstrating the new trick that she learned recently, waving on command.

*************************

Walking away from her husband’s empty grave is far easier than walking towards it was. The tears do not stop carving a pathway – one that she is beginning to believe is permanent – down her face, but there is a degree of relief in leaving such a false monument behind. She can move on with her life now. Dedicate herself to raising their perfect daughter, watching over their incredible son and tracking down the Monitor so that she can demand answers, so that she can find her husband. She cannot believe that he is dead until she sees his body herself, he has defied death far too many times.

That belief does not change the fact that she is now truly alone. When he left before, she at least knew that he was okay, she knew where he was and what he was doing. She got to watch him train their grown up daughter and joke with their son who was as old as he was. She got to call him, and text him. None of that will happen anymore. She has no idea how long it will take to find him, or what she will come across when she does. She is a single parent now, just like her own mother had been.

John is kind enough to drive them home, knowing that she is in no state to do so herself. He also takes Mia for the night, understanding in that way that only two people who have been through what they have together can that she needs the night to grieve before she can begin the next step of her journey. Reluctant to part with Mia, despite knowing that it is necessary for her own health, she spends more than fifteen minutes going through every single detail of Mia’s routine with John until he can recite it from heart. She then kisses her daughter’s face all over several times before finally letting John leave.

*************************

After watching the car drive away until it goes out of sight, she heaves a sigh and turns to her empty house, all of the warmth and charm that she had found in it over the summer gone without Oliver there. Entirely overwhelmed by emotion, it takes her several minutes of getting in and going through the motions of arriving home before she spots that something is very, _very_ wrong. Somebody has been cooking in her kitchen.

*************************

She grabs the first thing that she can – an umbrella – and brandishes it in front of her, stalking around and finding the oven on with something inside it. Evidence of freshly washed dishes is next to the sink and, worst of all, the dining table is set up for a romantic dinner for two, with the cutlery and crockery from their wedding reception.

“Shit.” Comes a heartbreakingly familiar voice from behind her. She tenses, freezing in place, unable to bring herself to turn and face the inevitable disappointment of her brain tricking her into believing that some criminal is her… no, it is just a criminal. “You weren’t supposed to be back so early! I thought that it would go on for longer and I’d have time to get everything set up perfectly!” she sobs, the illusion maintaining.

“Fe-li-ci-ty?” he asks, worry bleeding through his tone and finally making her wheel around, umbrella in hand. She sobs more. “What’s wrong, Honey?”

“Oliver?” she dare not hope, “You’re here? It’s really you?”

“It’s really me, I’m really here. I’m home.” The umbrella clatters to the floor, forgotten as she leaps forwards into the warm, strong, _living_ arms of her husband. Limbs wrapped as tightly around him as possible, she sobs into his neck, running her fingers through the soft locks of hair that she finds adorning his head. Making sure that one arm is braced securely under her thighs, he lets the other move up her back to wind up into her honey-blond tresses, peppering kisses along her neck where he can reach. Once he makes it to her jaw, and cannot go any further, he nudges at her, prompting her to move her face so that he can continue his trail to her mouth.

For the first time in months, they kiss.

It is somehow both desperate and soft all at once, months of pain and heartbreak being poured into it right alongside the adoration and love that they have for one another. Both of their faces are wet, streaked with tears from both of them as they convey every moment of missing each other in one long expression of their love.

Perfect.

*************************

They don’t stop until the buzzing of the timer interrupts them. Even that cannot get them to separate. They pull back, still wrapped up together.

“You made me dinner?”

“A belated anniversary dinner, seeing as we didn’t get to celebrate in November.”

She smiles, pecking his lips again. “Well, Mister Smoak Queen, we wouldn’t want our anniversary dinner to burn.”

“No, we wouldn’t Missus Smoak Queen.”

He still refuses to put her back on the ground, instead opting to walk the both of them to the oven. There, he does sit her on the worktop beside it before attending to his work, pulling out a delicious Italian meal reminiscent of their first, failed date. He takes two full plates to the beautiful set up at their table, excited to be feeding his wife again. He will feed her for the rest of their lives now.

When he returns to where she is sat, his heart drops at the frown on her face, “What’s wrong?” he asks, voice trembling.

“I just- it’s hard to believe that this is real. That you’re really here. I was expecting to come home and be alone and then set up some searches to find you. I was prepared to spend the rest of my life looking for you. Instead, I come home and you’re here, cooking for me like you never left. How is this possible, Oliver? John said that he watched you disintegrate before his eyes. The Monitor said that you were going to die and that it was inevitable. I was just at your _funeral_ -” she is frantic now, her chest wracking with each shaky breath.

“Baby- Baby, calm down. I promise that I will explain everything. Tomorrow. Tonight, I just want to celebrate being home, being back with my wife to whom I have been married for more than two years. I want to love you and forget the pain of the last few months. Just know that this is real, this is permanent and I am never going to leave you again. Nothing could make me do that. Tomorrow, when John brings Mia home we’re going to start the rest of our lives together. I’m going to raise our baby girl with you and make sure that we get our boy home. Our children will not live the lives that the versions of them that I met did. They will be happy and our brave son and our strong daughter will grow up together.”

“Okay.” This time, she believes him. She slides off her perch and goes to the table, frowning again at the sight. Disgruntled, she moves the chairs so that they are pressed together and puts their plates directly next to one another. Grabbing her husband’s thumb, she pulls him to her before pushing him down onto the double seat, eliciting a salacious grin from him. She then parks herself sideways onto his lap, drawing her feet up onto the second chair and mumbling “I need to be touching you.” His eyes fill with understanding.

The food is the first in months that she has tasted and it’s _divine_. The moans of delight that are elicited as she eats cause for Oliver to shift uncomfortably beneath her, the hand that he has wrapped around her clenching and unclenching at her waist as his breathing gets heavy. Smirking, she makes sure to wriggle more as she eats.

*************************

When they are done, Oliver politely asks her if she wants some dessert. “Mint-chip? Chocolate? Anything you want.”

“I had my mind on another kind of dessert.” She fuses their mouths together. Heat spreads through her veins very quickly as a result, their movements becoming sloppier and hotter with each passing moment. It takes very little time for Oliver to stray away from her mouth, his everlasting fascination with her neck rearing its head once again.

“Oliver.” She breathes, a command and praise threaded into his name. He understands, hooking an arm under her knees and rising without losing the connection between them. Muscle memory kicks in, the knowledge of their little cabin rooted deep within him and he lets instinct guide him to their bedroom, all of his conscious attention on his girl.

*************************

In their bedroom, he lays her gently on their bed, emotion rising in his chest at the sight that he never thought he would get again. “Off.” She moans, annoyed at him for pausing. He obeys, pulling off his shirt before repeating the movement on her. Skin to skin once again, he presses himself over her, making sure to connect them at every possible. A small shift of her leg tells him what she wants, so he lets her flip them, and she settles on top. She pulls off both of their trousers, leaving them in only their underwear. His hands settle on her hips, and he looks up at her with adoration. It is then that he notices the tears running down her beautiful face.

  
“Felicity? What’s wrong?”

“I just never thought that we would get this again. I love you so much.”

“More than a human being should love another human being.” He promises her, reminding her of what she had told him a year before when they had been reunited, before encircling her within his arms and taking over again, knowing that what she needs from him is for him to show her _exactly_ how alive he is, how _present_ he is.

*************************

True to the promise that he made himself the night before, the first thing that Oliver does upon awaking (after taking a moment to bask in the joy of waking up with his wife naked and in his arms, sated and sleepy from an endless night of loving one another) is go to the kitchen to make her breakfast. All that he puts on is a pair of boxers. He doesn’t mind oil splatter on his skin, it is one of the hazards of cooking, but there are one or two places that he can think of where he would rather avoid it.

Breakfast is almost ready, a spread of all of Felicity’s favourites, when the sound of a lock turning precedes John’s voice announcing “Felicity. We’re back.” Upon receiving no reply, he murmurs to Mia “Where is your Mommy, little girl? Is she still in bed?”

Oliver considers running back to their bedroom to wake up his wife and send her in to soften the shock that seeing him alive will bring John. He also thinks that he should put something else on. But the hesitation in considering this lasts just long enough for John to find his way into the kitchen. Too late. Oh well, seeing Oliver almost naked – not to mention alive – in his kitchen will not be the weirdest thing that John has ever seen. After all, only a week ago, John had seen a cosmic being inhabiting his corpse.

“Felicity?” John asks, rounding the corner.

“Wrong spouse.” Is Oliver’s response, a grin adorning his lips as he leans against the counter. John’s brain almost visibly melts. But Oliver has no time to deal with Diggle’s _weird stuff is happening_ meltdown, because he has just caught sight of his little girl, nestled in the humungous arms of her uncle. He immediately switches to what Felicity has dubbed his ‘squidgy baby voice’ “Is that my Little Star that I can see there?” extending his arms, he gathers her up and cradles her against his chest as she babbles excitedly at him, clearly recognising her father. She is _so much bigger_ than she was when he left. Even in this brief separation (though, he realises, it has been half of her life) he can see that she has developed _so much_. He has missed so much.

“Hi Baby Girl,” he says, voice choked up, “Daddy’s home. Daddy is home Mia-Bear and I’m never going to leave again.” he finds that tears are falling again, holding his daughter in his arms, so when she reaches up with her little arms, and presses his cheeks together between her tiny hands and proclaims, with as much confidence as the alternate, adult version of herself that he has come to know “Da!” he just about breaks down.

“Yeah, Sweetheart. I’m your Dada. Did your Mama teach you that word?”

“Ma!” she squeals, looking around with the joy that only a child has shining in her eyes.

“Shush, little love, Mama’s sleeping. We don’t want to wake her up before her breakfast is ready.”

The mention of Felicity finally seems to break John from his reverie. “ _How_?” he asks, ragged.

“I’m back, John. I’m back for good. To be a husband and a father. Full-time. And last night, I promised my wife that I would tell her how this is all possible and what exactly happened, so if you want to stick around whilst I keep another promise and make her breakfast, then I’ll tell you all about it too.” John just nods in response.

“Okay, Miss Mia, let’s get Mommy some food. And coffee, never forget Mommy’s coffee.”

“’fee” she claps her hands together.

Oliver laughs, “Of course. You can only say three words but you know exactly what coffee is. There’s no doubt as to who your Mama is, is there Little Star?” he settles her in her high chair, pulling it up to where he is finishing cooking.

He talks gently to his daughter, explaining every step of his cooking as he goes. This time around, he is determined that his daughter will know how to feed herself. When he is done, he looks up and sees John staring at the two of them, a soft expression on his face.

“You really were born to be a father, man.” He says. Oliver blushes.

“I don’t know about that. It’s very easy to love this little nugget.” He tickles Mia’s belly, eliciting peals of laughter from her.

“Oliver?” comes the rough, sleep-fresh sound of his wife making her way to the kitchen.

“Hey, Honey.” She walks in, the only thing that she is visibly wearing is Oliver’s Henley from the previous night and Oliver feels his stomach tighten at the incredibly sexy sight. Nipples peaked underneath, hair ruffled in a way that is clearly not just sleep, bare legs on display from just above the knee – where the hem of his Henley hits – down. He saunters over, not caring that John is there, and plants a kiss directly on her lips, letting his tongue trace the seam. She opens her mouth, but he stops them from devolving into a full blown make out in front of their friend, who considers Felicity as his little sister, and their infant daughter. “Look who’s home.” He moves back, letting her see their little girl in her high chair.

“Ma!” Mia yells, squirming to get out of the chair and into her mother’s arms. “Ma! Ma. Maaaaa.”

“Mia-Bear! When did you get home and why did you not come and say hello?” she fakes a grumpy voice, “What? Now that Daddy’s home you just forget about me, is that how it is?” she teases, kissing Mia all over and making her giggle.

“Ma.” She says, almost seriously, “Da.” She proudly points at him. “Da, Ma. Da.”

“Yeah, Baby. That’s Dada. He’s home.” Mia nods, like she knows what her mother is saying.

Unable to stop himself, Oliver walks over to his girls and wraps them up in his big arms. He feels Felicity’s head drop to his chest with a relaxed sigh and Mia twists herself so that she can look up at him with a big smile on her face, safe in the arms of her parents.

*************************

John is, eventually, forced to interrupt the moment with a cough.

“John!” Felicity yells, not having noticed him before. “You’re here.” She almost scrambles to put the island between the two of them, self-consciously tugging Oliver’s top down in an attempt to cover her thighs. Oliver stabilises Mia in his grip, and then walks over to his wife and deposits their daughter back in her seat, giving her a puzzle and some baby food to keep her occupied.

Once he gets back to Felicity, he sees that she has spotted the food he made and is tucking in, safer with her lower half concealed from John.

“Thank you.” She says. Oliver pushes the extra plate that he made up towards John, a silent gesture of gratitude for everything he did during Oliver’s absence, before sitting with his own plate next to Felicity. They eat in an amicable quiet, all of them carefully avoiding the topic of Oliver’s death and subsequent return in order to enjoy a moment, reunited.

During their meal, Oliver cannot help but reach an arm, out of John’s eye line, out to Felicity’s thigh. He traces up softly, dragging the Henley with his finger and making his way to her hip. _She is not wearing any underwear_. He has to supress a groan, knowing that she had intended to continue with their night time activities when she came looking for him this morning. It also explains why she had been so embarrassed to have been seen by John.

*************************

Once they have finished eating, and Oliver is clearing away as Felicity feeds Mia, that is when Oliver begins to explain. He starts at the very beginning, when he left his family believing that he was going to his doom. Their months apart, the adventures on Earth-2 and in Hong Kong and Nanda Parbat. Meeting their children and falling even more in love with both versions, growing close to them whilst knowing that he was about to leave in the most permanent way possible. He tells Felicity about his distrust in the Monitor, and the time loop that had made him accept his fate. About being back on Lian Yu, but with both of their children this time around and how terrifying it had been.

Then, he talks about Crisis. The sacrifice that he made, that only he could make, to pave the path to winning, to saving the world. That is where his own memories end. There is a big black space in his mind – the time that he spent dead. After that, he has blurry images – like watching someone through a filtered screen – of his own body performing acts that are physically impossible for himself. The time that Spectre was in charge. And then the light, a time of only pure, white light blinding him to everything else until he awoke to the Monitor’s face and the explanation that his death had been inevitable, but his rebirth equally so.

It is necessary for most of the world to believe that Oliver Queen is dead because he should be. Because it will allow Oliver to live the life that he has earned over the past thirteen years with his sacrifices, his heroism and his death. Because it will be safer for his family that way. And both Oliver and Felicity are happy to maintain that illusion, as long as they can still get their son back.

It is a long and exhausting talk, but eventually everything is agreed upon and John is set to sort out full custody of William for both Oliver and Felicity so that they can finally live their lives together.

*************************

After saying goodbye to John, and putting Mia down for her nap, Oliver drags Felicity back to their bedroom so that he can fully explore under his Henley. They celebrate for hours.

*************************

**Seven Months Later**

“Wills! Wills!” Mia demands.

“Yeah, Mia-Mare?” Will replies to his year old sister with the nickname that he gave her as soon as she started walking and became a waking nightmare for them all as she constantly attempted to defy the laws of gravity.

“Look! Made it for you!” she started talking in full sentences not long after Will was finally brought home to them and introduced to her and has not stopped since.

John had facilitated William’s return, fully processing all of the paperwork needed to get him home before going to William himself and telling him that it was his choice, but that his father had been returned to them, alive, and that his family very much wanted him back. William had been half ecstatic that they had been so forceful in their approach with his grandparents and half furious that they had not come themselves. He had made that very clear. In turn, John had made it very clear that they had wanted to, but Oliver could not leave for fear of being seen and identified, the need to remain dead was strong, and Felicity was needed at home for a reason that was not explained to him as anything more than something that they desperately wanted to _show_ him.

Those words fired up the part of William that could not let a mystery lie, something else that he picked up from his mother, and he agreed to go with his uncle, on the condition that if he was still unhappy, he could return to the Claytons.

Of course, after he arrived at the restored Queen Mansion, where his parents were setting up their home and their future, he could not leave. He had a baby sister to love, after all.

Several long, complicated talks with his parents later, and they had all agreed on how to make life better going forwards. So far, it has worked.

He turns to Mia, taking the proffered gift and making a big deal over it for her, before smiling over at Felicity. She does not yet know it, but for Hanukkah, he is going to ask her to formally adopt him. For a brief time, he worried that he would be insulting his Mom’s memory by doing so, but then he realised that she would want him to be happy. She would want him to have loving parents and a maternal figure who would do anything for him. And he realised that plenty of people have multiple Moms, Dads, and parents in all shapes and forms, so it is okay that he does too.

And it will be good to be the legal full brother of his siblings. Plural. Because, upon arriving home, he had not only discovered that he had a baby sister who’s first year he had almost completely missed because of his stubbornness, but also that his mom and dad had managed to get pregnant again immediately after his father’s return. Which was _not_ something that he wanted to think about. _Ever_.

He had also had the chance to come out to his parents. It had been the most wonderful and rewarding moment of his life when all that they had done was smile and inform him that they already knew. And then he got to listen as his dad launched into a story about when the alternate future version of him had shared the exact same conversation.

*************************

**Years Later**

Life is good. At night, Mia insists on being put to bed by her Mama _and_ her Dada _and_ her Wills. When Lucas is born, she makes Will be the villain as she plays “Gween Arrow to da wescue, Wills, come on.” With Lucas in the role of damsel. When Felicity adopts William, they are all there with the two of them, his father smiling proudly. When the twins, a surprise in more ways than one, are born almost four years after Lucas, they are doted on by their entire family.

When she is around five years old, Tommy and Ada still in cribs. Mia asks Daddy to tell them all the story of the Crisis. He has told her all about the Green Arrow and Overwatch and their adventures with Spartan, but he will never tell the little ones about his time when he was gone and never expected to return. This time is different.

“Have you ever heard the story about the brightest star in the sky and how she and her big brother saved their father?” he asks her back, receiving a little shake of her head in response. “Well then, Little Star, let me tell it to you.”

**Author's Note:**

> See! I told you I'd make it better.
> 
> I don't have a beta, so any mistakes are mine.
> 
> I'm on Twitter [@MagusLibera](https://twitter.com/MagusLibera).


End file.
